Helping Hands
by nobutsiriuslywhat
Summary: Clint was only trying to be helpful.
1. Chapter 1

This was definitely Clint's fault. She wasn't sure how, but it definitely was. Because being handcuffed to Phil Coulson while being trapped in a supply closet had to be his fault. Had to be! She sure has hell didn't do it.

And they weren't even stuck in a _helpful _supply closet. This one just had stack and stacks of paper and ink for the hundreds of printers in the building. There wasn't even a paperclip to be found to pick the lock on the cuffs.

Darcy huffed and crossed her arms. Or she tried to but she just ended up yanking on Coulson's arm and hitting herself in the chest with it. She cringed and immediately dropped her arms to the side. "Sorry."

Oh, this was such a nightmare! Why couldn't she be stuck with someone she didn't have a massive lady boner for?

Seriously! The amount of time she spent thinking about what he looked like under his suits was probably illegal. And the fact that she kept finding reasons to "run into him" around the tower was probably pretty suspicious as well. She never hung around long, just gave her enough time to…appreciate him as a person.

When the team found out Coulson was alive and that SHIELD was filled with dirty Hydra rats, Tony had offered him a place that wasn't (formerly) SHIELD-related, and he took it. Instead of being the link between SHIELD and the Avengers he was pretty much the link between the Avengers and the outside world. It worked for them.

And it certainly worked for Darcy's viewing pleasure. She wasn't sure what it was about Secret Agent Man, but he was hitting all the right marks on her list. Mature, wise, alpha male personality, funny, hot as hell. Yep, he was kind of perfect for her.

Too bad he didn't know it.

So, yeah, the current situation? Kind of a nightmare and dream come true all at once. She was trying very, very hard not to yell out something completely mortifying like, "I want to sit on your face."

"What?"

FUCK.

"Nothing!" Darcy squeaked and hid her face with her hands. Which she couldn't do because it ended up making Coulson molest her boob.

Can she go home yet?

Phil laughed softly. "While Agent Barton's plan of attack leaves much to be desired, I can't fault him for the outcome."

Darcy was very confused. "Huh?"

He gave her an indulgent smile. "I can't get you to stay in the same room with me for more than two minutes, so I acquired his assistance. The handcuffs were overkill, I admit, but he was trying to be thorough."

"Huh?" Really, she was an intelligent human being. Promise.

"Darcy," he stepped right in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. He raised his hands slowly and framed her face, her hand holding on to his wrist. His hands were large and his touch was gentle as he ran a thumb over her lips. "I've been trying to ask you out for a while now, but you keep running away."

Her eyes were wide and her mouth dropped open. "Oh. I, um, yes?"

His eyes crinkled as his smile grew. And before she knew it, he was kissing her. It was gentle and sweet and perfect. He took his time memorizing her mouth and as the seconds passed it started getting heavier, more desperate until they were both breathing hard as they parted.

"Now, how about we kill some time until he remembers we're in here?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

She laughed and was totally on board for that.

* * *

I had a lot of fun writing this one. Let me know what you think!

as always, you can find me on tumblr: nobutsiriuslywhat


	2. Chapter 2

When Clint opened the supply closet door two hours later, he had a pizza in hand and an appraising look on his face.

In response, Darcy just raised an eyebrow as if to say, "yeah, what of it?" and Phil promptly stole the hot pizza. Clint squawked and made grabby hands trying to take it back. Darcy slapped him on the back of the hand and said, "That's what you get for forgetting us in there."

Clint huffed and crossed his arms. "I didn't forget."

Darcy raised the other eyebrow.

"Okay, I did, but the important thing is that I remembered." Aw, he looked proud of himself.

Darcy sighed and shook the hand that had the handcuffs attached to it, "Care to unlock these? I have to get back to work. Jane's probably freaking out…Okay, that's a lie, she probably didn't notice I'm gone yet. _But_ it's definitely passed her feeding time."

"Oh! Right." He patted his pockets, looking for the key.

"Clint." Oh, Phil didn't sound too happy, but it was more annoyance than anything else. He wasn't exactly mad about the time they spent together.

While he may have looked completely put together when the door was opened, she looked decidedly fucked. Her shirt was rumpled, and her lip stick looked like it had been kissed off (well, yeah, duh), and she was rocking a serious case of sex hair (she gave up on fixing it until she could see a mirror).

She wasn't complaining either.

As soon as the cuffs were off (thank you, Agent Barton), Phil had the pizza box open and was offering it to Darcy. "Don't mind if I do," she said, taking two slices and immediately taking a bit. She moaned at the taste. What? She was starving and liked pizza.

Clint took a breath, getting ready to say something ridiculous, but he was stopped by the look on Phil's face.

Yup. She was _definitely _in like with him.

She smiled and waved her pizza at the two men before starting down the hall to find a bathroom to fix her hair. She did not need to give Tony any ammunition. He was so far worse than Clint it wasn't even funny.

"Text me about tomorrow," she called over her shoulder before taking another bite of pizza.

In between sexy times in the closet, Phil did indeed ask her out. And Darcy was having such a good time that she offered to have him over for dinner the next night. Well, she was going to suggest _that _night but she didn't want to seem too desperate.

She had a text message from him a few hours later.

_Want me to bring anything tomorrow? – Phil_

Oh yeah, he was _Phil _now. She hummed, smiling.

_Just yourself, hot stuff ;) – DL_

His was response was quick. _I'll bring wine._

_Gonna try and get me drunk so you can have your wicked way with me? – DL_

Damn, she had it bad.

_Oh, I don't think we'll be needing the wine for that. Plus I'm pretty sure I already have. Unless you're complaining. – Phil_

She could feel the smugness in the text. Well, someone was proud of themselves (and, yes, he should be).

Darcy was about to text back with something equally cocky when she had a sudden thought. _Oh! Hey! Do you have any allergies I need to know about? I don't want to accidentally kill you._

Killing her new (boyfriend? lover? human sex toy?) man friend on their first official date would be very bad. Plus SHIELD would probably lock her up in a dark hole somewhere for the rest of her life. Or they'd take her iPod again.

She shuddered.

_Whatever you make will be fine. I'm not picky. I've heard from Agent Barton that you are an amazing cook. I think he actually teared up when he talked about your homemade pasta sauce. I'm up for whatever you want to do._

Heh. She saw what he did there.

She nodded, not that he could see it (that's a lie, there were ways that he could see that). _He did, in fact, cry when I gave him banana bread for his birthday. So, yeah, no pressure on the food. Gotcha. – DL_

SO MUCH PRESSURE. Thanks, Clint.

Darcy wanted to impress him with this meal. She was very proud of the things she could make, and she so desperately wanted him to like it.

She smirked. Yup. She had just the thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy may have gone a little overboard with the food prep. Not so much with the dinner part of it (chicken parm with her homemade pasta sauce), but more so with the desert. She might have made entire peanut butter cheesecake.

From scratch.

That part was probably overkill. It was a desert she usually only made for special occasions, and if this didn't qualify, well then she didn't know what did. She was in full-on seduction via food mode.

Don't judge. Food was her weapon and she wielded it well.

And now for the completely girly question of what to wear.

Okay, calm down, you can do this. She straightened the flour stained t-shirt she was wearing and went to stand in front of her closet. Maybe something would just pop out at her and scream_ this makes you look like an adult and not at all like a loser._

She stared hard at her clothes. Nope, that didn't work. Hm. Okay, start with pants. Pants are a good idea. Pants that she would be taking off later, were a better idea.

Darcy decided on dark wash skinny jeans because they made her ass look fantastic. And, after staring down her shirts for entirely too long (shit, what time was it?) she decided on a black blouse with a slight off-the-shoulder neckline. It made her feel dainty and feminine and she loved it.

In other words? She felt like a confident motherfucker.

She wandered back into the kitchen and debated drizzling more chocolate over the cheesecake when the doorbell rang.

Okay, so those nerves that had abated just a few minutes ago? Yeah, they abruptly came back at the sound. Considering how she spent a sizeable part of yesterday trapped in a closet and doing _things_ with this man, you'd think the nerves would go away.

Haha. Yeah, no.

She vaguely wanted to throw up. _Okay, be cool._ _He's already seen you naked, and that's the worst of it. Chill the fuck out._

The second she opened the door she realized she had forgotten to put shoes on. Damn! And she had a cute pair of boots, too. She glared down at her feet.

"What did the floor do to you?" Phil asked, hooking his finger under her chin.

Swear to god, just that little touch was enough to drive her crazy. _What is wrong with you?_

"I'm not wearing shoes," she pouted as she looked up at him. Oh, he looked good. She may have licked her lips.

He grinned and let out a chuckle. "I don't think no shoes are a deal breaker, sweetheart."

Yeah, he can call her that all day long. All night long. Among other things. Dirty things.

And she really needed to stop thinking about what those things could be.

"So, can I come in?"

Shit. "Yes, yes. Sorry. I, um, yes, please," she stumbled over her words as she quickly backed up and let him in. She wanted to smack herself.

"Here," he said, holding a bottle of wine out to her, "I brought this for you. You never really answered my question about what to bring, but I know you like it so…" he trailed off and Darcy realized he was embarrassed.

Holy shit that was fucking adorable.

Smiling softly, she took the bottle and turned it around to read the label. Her eyes went wide. "This is my favorite! How did you even get it?"

Darcy was stunned. Seriously, how did he get this in twenty four hours? She was holding her absolute favorite bottle of wine and it wasn't super local to New York. It was an absolutely amazing blackberry wine from a small vineyard in Rhode Island. She had discovered it on a road trip through New England a few years ago, and she may have made pilgrimages back that way to stock up. And, since she knew he had been at work all afternoon, she was starting to wonder if he sent one of his minions to go get it, but that would be ridiculous…right?

Which reminded her that she needed to go back. Unless Phil was going to share his wine sources with her. That would save on so much gas.

How he could smirk and look pleased at the same time, she didn't know. But he did and that did things to her. "I have my sources," was all he said.

Apparently he wasn't going to give up his wine sources. Damn.

"_Thank you,_" she breathed. What? She really liked this wine. "Here, I'll go open this if you want to go sit at the table. Just toss your jacket anywhere," she made a vague motion towards the couch or the back of a chair. It was a very vague motion.

Phil simply took the bottle back from her and walked to her kitchen. "Just direct me to the wine opener and some glasses."

Darcy resisted the urge to salute him. "Yes, sir. Opener is in the drawer next to the sink and the good glasses are in the second cabinet over from the fridge." The good glasses she only used once in her life. They were a gift from Jane when she moved into the tower, but she figured drinking wine out of plastic cups on her date with Phil wasn't going to look so great.

He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows by the time he handed her a glass and Jesus, even his forearms were sexy.

She took a fortifying sip (she resisted the urge to gulp at it because she was a lady) and promised herself she'd at least get through dinner before tearing his clothes off. But judging by the hungry look in his eyes, she didn't know how successful she'd be.

Best intentions and all that.


End file.
